Harry Under Hypnosis
by Pizzahutgirl
Summary: Harry sees a hypnotherapist... Just a little flashback scene from the Philosopher's Stone. Hope you all enjoy! Please review!


**Harry under Hypnosis…**

"So, Mr Potter, please could you lie down on the sofa, and then we can begin."

Harry moved cautiously toward the rather uncomfortable looking chaise longue and sat.

"Now, Mr Potter, you will begin to feel sleepy – please feel free to succumb to the drowsiness, it will make our session far more productive."

Harry, already exhausted through troubled sleep, complied.

* * *

A loud growling sound was building up in the distance. Harry awoke with a start, and stared at his surroundings - the inky black sky was rather comforting, he thought, in comparison to the blinding green light that wouldn't remove itself from Harry's subconscious. The stars were twinkling like jewels in the night sky – just like my mum's eyes, Harry thought. They looked like emeralds, bright green emeralds. He looked up. They weren't there, those startling green eyes. Instead, a huge, whiskery face came into view, making soothing sounds (well it was evident that it was trying to make soothing sounds).

"It's alrigh' Harry, I'll look after ye'," the face said, breaking into a sad smile. "Ye'll never be alone when I'm abou' – I can promise ye tha'."

Harry began to cry – he wasn't sure whether it was due to the lack of his mother's comforting touch, or the rather frightening face which was above him.

"Hush Harry, it's all gonna be alrigh'. Professor Dumbledore will make sure tha' ye're happy." Hagrid said.

Harry continued to cry, but soon after had exhausted himself and fell asleep to the sound of Hagrid talking to himself.

"It's all over now. It's all over."

He sounded like he was reassuring someone, but it wasn't really evident who.

"It's alrigh', it's alrigh', it's all over. He's dead, or so they say. I don' believe 'em. I 'ope Sirius is alrigh'.'E was cryin', ye' see Harry. 'E was yer Dad's bes' friend, and now he's dead. Merlin, Harry, they're dead, an' yeh'll never remember 'em. Yeh'll never even remember 'em."

Hagrid began to cry this time, huge tears dripping down his cheeks. He looked down.

"The River Severn," Hagrid remarked to himself. "Jus' over Bristol."

Soon it was time to descend. Hagrid and Harry moved down through the layers of cloud until they were about 20 feet from the ground.

"Yeh ready Harry? Sirius said this thing can be a bit awkward ter land."

Hagrid revved the motorbike's engine and began speeding towards the ground. They hit it with a jolt, sharp enough to wake Harry up. He looked around again. Suddenly finding comfort in that huge, hairy face, Harry didn't cry. He simply stared at the tall man who was sweeping towards the motorbike.

* * *

Harry awoke with a jolt.

"Mr Potter, I hope you found your time under hypnosis fruitful. Could you please tell me what scene you saw?"

Harry, however, was not listening. His mind was whirring, no longer limited by multiple sleepless nights and bad dreams. Each image he had seen was flicking backwards and forwards as he tried to make sense of it all – Hagrid's face, him mentioning Sirius, the sound of the motorbike's engine, that bright green light, the high, cold laugh…

Harry shook his head to get rid of that image – his scar hadn't pained him in months, and he wasn't going to let that start again now.

"Mr Potter?"

"Sorry."

"What did you see?"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

Truthfully, Harry feared that he would cry if he did. Hagrid was, in some ways, Harry's only surviving link to his parents. It pained him to have seen someone who was always so strong, so utterly distraught.

"Mr Potter, Hagrid was with you when you died, wasn't he?"

"How did you know about that?" Harry replied.

"The Minister for Magic explained a lot to me, but do not worry, he assured me that should I tell anyone other than you, we would make my life a misery."

Harry smiled a little – Kingsley could always be relied upon.

"Yes, he was."

"Then I believe that you must think about his significance to you, Mr Potter."

Harry rose from the sofa, and headed towards the fireplace.

"Yes, Miss Abbott, I think I will."

He took pinch of Floo powder and threw it into the grate.

"I wish you well, Mr Potter. We all owe you."

"Well that's where you may be wrong – I owe all of you."

And with that, Harry stepped in, shouted "The Burrow", and disappeared into the flames.


End file.
